"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
09-07-2015, 02:53 AM (This post was last modified: 09-07-2015, 04:14 PM by Kronk.)
(OOC: No Chamber or Valley, please.)
From above, the wicked shall receive their just reward
This post was accidentally deleted when silly Anna thought to muss with the HTML. It cannot be recovered, please see lower posts for more information.
To summarize what was here before I deleted it:
Kronk is your traditional solider type. He likes to follow orders and feels a sense of satisfaction from being part of a well oiled army. He is looking for a place where he can be apart of something bigger than himself, he feels like it is selfish to follow nothing but your own whims. He is in the field to be recruited to such a purpose.
Kronk is generally a good guy. He tries very hard to be official, though he sometimes manages to get himself into embarrassing situations. He’s the type who will carefully carry a whole set of dishes through a crowded room only to drop them right before he gets to the sink.
FAMILIAR BREATH OF MY OLD LIES CHANGED THE COLOR IN MY EYES
If the Gates could use anything, it was members. More importantly it could probably use soldiers, horses that could join their sad little army. It was all those things, sad, lonely. She never said it out loud but she didn’t really need to, and that was the problem itself. Everyone knew, they knew the Gates was practically non-existent. Everyone knew that they had little in the way of defense, and Wichita was uncomfortable with that fact. She had children to raise, to keep safe, and something needed to happen if her home was to remain a place for her to do that. She would never leave, no, but she would feel a hell of a lot better. She would be able to sleep at night.
She made the decision today to visit the fields, two silvered foals filing along behind her. She had been truly blessed this season, not that she had never been blessed before. Wichita loved all of her children, so very much, it was one of the reasons she had come out today. However, sometimes something special happens and you become the mother of two beautiful star struck twins. Even if she could barely recall the father, the entire event a bit fuzzy in her mind, that made the two no less perfect. They favored their Dam for the most part, lovely silver black against her Silver dapple. Manes and tails long, soft and flaxen as a field of grain. But where Wichita’s eyes were a warm cup of hot cocoa, the children’s eyes were a sparkling shade of blue. Perhaps they were white, she couldn’t really tell, they were as vibrant as starlight. Where the pony-sized mare was distinguished by golden cat eye markings, her babes were marked with constellations. Twinkling pieces of the galaxy rested on their flanks, the stars themselves seemed alive, dimming in and out to mimic a night sky.
It wasn’t hard to find someone she thought might suit their needs, and she wasn’t one to dilly-dally this time. When she waited too long, sat considering each male nervously, it was too late. Not this time, she thought. ”Howdy there.” She called without reluctance, setting aside her otherwise fear or uncertainty with men. She didn’t have time for that today, the Gates couldn’t afford for her to be afraid. Her young skipped forward behind her, appearing rather observant for their age. Quiet too, silently watching the others and taking in their surroundings.
All things are possible, even the worst of things.
The day dawns bright, a subtle warmth hanging in the air upon a slight breeze, a pre-cursor of the coming summer. The Desert is quiet today, more so than usual. He awakens with restless feet, unable to keep himself inside the borders lest he go mad. He is unused to idleness. Oh, he is very good at doing nothing. But he had always done nothing virtually everywhere. And so while he had been quite good at avoiding production, he had always been busy.
So today he decides to meet someone new. He had vowed (well, mostly to himself. Is it really a vow if you don’t tell anyone else? Idle thoughts) that he would apply himself fully to building up the Deserts. He had made his decision, nearly a year ago now, and his resolve had not lessened. While he had been little more than a vagabond (sort of) for the majority of his youth, he had grown tired of that existence. Ultimately he is a stallion that needs a purpose. He would have wasted away with nothing to keep him entertained. Today he will work towards fulfilling that purpose.
He finds the field easily (it is a path well-trodden, after all). Coffee-hued gaze scanning the expanse, he searches for a likely candidate. He spots him readily in a buckskin stallion standing forcedly still not too far from him. As he eyes him, a dappled mare approaches him with two young foals trailing along behind her. He smiles as he steps forward to approach the group. He rather likes children.
As he nears, he catches the mare greeting the stallion with a charming howdy, her drawl as smooth and warm as the sands from whence he hailed.
Hello!
He offers his own greeting as he inserts himself into the group. An easy grin tilts his lips as he continues.
Hoo, man, am I glad to be here! I’m Shahrizai, by the way. Or you can call me Shah, I’m not picky. Care if I ask your names? Might get confusing if I start calling everyone ‘Hey, you!’
He laughs then, a warm, deep-chested laugh. Someone has to laugh at his jokes (even if it is only himself).
shahrizai
hestoni x scorch
Oh Shah :| I'm sorry, not quite sure what that was
09-07-2015, 04:05 PM (This post was last modified: 09-07-2015, 04:10 PM by Kronk.)
From above, the wicked shall receive their just reward
A fly landed on Kronk and he tried to ignore it. Then the bastard bit him and he tossed his head a little to dissuade it. From there the battle progressed, and by the time he heard the mare shout out to him Kronk was all but trashing, trying to get the beastie to leave him alone. At her words he stiffened and felt a hot blush rush to his face. This didn’t do much to help his situation.
Soldiers did not blush. But, apparently this one did, for his muzzle was turning a charming shade of pink.
Kronk stomped his feet in a flurry to face her and when they were eye to eye he straightened up again, as if she was the general he had been waiting to inspect him. Yet, she seemed friendly enough and Kronk watched her with polite interest. It was her children, however, that finally caused him to relax a little. They were precocious little scamps, a little matching set of stars. And they reminded him of his siblings.
“Hello ma’am.” He managed a smile that wasn’t too stiff.
“Twins, aren’t they? I’m one third of a triplet, myself.” He hadn’t seen his siblings recently, but he remembered their foal days with fondness, all eyes and legs and wiggly tails. He watched the babes for another moment, before an adult voice snapped him back to attention. A stallion this time, with a friendly booming voice. Kronk came to polite attention and bobbed his head in way of a greeting as the stranger approached. In response to his question Kronk spoke.
“I’m Kronk, sir.” He paused, and considered for a moment.
“Though I answer to ‘hey you’ just as well.” It was true. “Hey you,” was a lot better than some things. Although, he had always thought Kronk rolled off the tongue quite well, might as well stick with that. It sounded as good spoken as it did bellowed, the perfect name for a solider.
Kronk looked at both his visitors with interest. He longed to ask them where they were from and what they did. Both seemed very official, and Kronk burned with a desire to have such a purpose. But, he managed to hold his tongue. Instead, he appeased himself with a formal,
FAMILIAR BREATH OF MY OLD LIES CHANGED THE COLOR IN MY EYES
She is about to speak, to make her purpose here known, when they are joined by another stallion. Her open mouth slides shut as she takes on a look of polite bewilderment. She wanted to be angry with him, perhaps she even was. A bit. He was just so nice, nice people were hard to be cross with. She offers him a small smile, something polite but a bit strained. The twins were giggling behind her now, at what she wasn’t sure but likely to the wiggling dance the paint had performed. Whatever the reason it wasn’t very polite and she would need to talk with them later about that.
Noticeably flustered, she pulls her head and neck back looking between the two stallions. When the approacher gives his name Shahrizai she tries to roll it silently in her mouth but gives up. Kronk though, that was easy enough. Kronk she thinks trying to keep the name somewhere she would not forget. Regardless if the male came with her, it might do her good to recall his name at the very least. Her sooty ears turn to the splashed soldier once again when her remarks on her children. “Why yes, they are. Oh triplets? Well golly, I cain’t imagine, bless yer momma sug.”Her tail flicks absently at her legs, shooing away the insects that buzzed around them now. “Where are my manners, I’m Wichita and this here is Romilly and Guthrie.” The silvered foals both fell into a hushed silence when realizing they were acknowledged, and quickly followed their mothers greeting with sheepish grins.
”To go right around tha bush so ta say, I’d be real grateful if you’d like to come with me to the Gates. Heaven’s Gates they call it, right nice place. Best clover this side of anywhere. We ain’t got much of an army, but that’s why we could really use ya. Hard to bring any candidates in when there ain’t no one ta teach ‘em. Pardon my sayin’ but you look like you’ve already been learned some.” She looked him over discreetly, he was standing all tall and proper now, to her he looked everything a soldier should be.
All things are possible, even the worst of things.
As the painted stallion questions Wichita about the twins trailing her, Shahrizai drops his head slightly, gaze finding the two children they are speaking of. They remind him slightly of Val and Thor when they had been but children (mostly in the fact that they are also twins), causing a brief moment of nostalgia to surge. They are giggling madly at Kronk’s previous antics, or at least they had been until their mother introduces them, effectively silencing them. He offers them a grin, tipping his head slightly at the stallion before giving them a conspiratorial wink. As the conversation turns back to the matter at hand, Shahrizai straightens, gaze turning back to Kronk as his features assume an innocent expression. Or as innocent as his expression can get with the grin still tugging at the corners of his lips.
His attempt at a neutral facade does not last long however. Expression dissolving into a wry smile at Kronk’s return quip, he clears his throat slightly before responding.
I think I can manage with Kronk. Or at least I hope so.
Wichita responds without hesitation to the paint’s next question. Tipping his ears in her direction, he listens quietly as she expounds upon the Gate’s need of him. He studies her quite openly, his chocolate brown gaze twinkling merrily as he does so.
I have to say, such directness is refreshing. Where can I find ten more of you?
Reaching out, he touches her shoulder lightly with his muzzle, conveying his good-natured teasing in that simple touch as much as in his cheerful gaze and the easy quirk of his lips.
In all seriousness though, I’m from the Deserts. I’m on much the same mission as Wichita here, though I must admit, we have less in the way of clover. Plenty of sand though, and it’s warm in the winter. I’m here searching for a few good souls who would like a mission, something to give their life purpose. And someone preferably who’s not afraid of a bit of hard work. We’ve got a ways to go, but the reward is more than worth it.
From above, the wicked shall receive their just reward
Kronk’s nemesis, the fly, had flown away, off to bite someone else. He was able to attend the conversation before him with a serious expression and a heart un weighted by annoyance. It was a good thing and only right, they both had come a long way, and he was quite interested in what they had to say. But first, he smiled again, this time it tipped up into a grin.
“While I’d never presume to speak for her, I think I can say with confidence that my mother was rather put upon. She soldiered on though.” Yes, she had raised three foals to adulthood and none of them (save for her of course) were any worse for wear. An admirable accomplishment.
Wichita introduced Romilly and Guthrie, though both seemed very distracted with laughing at something. He couldn’t say what, but he remembered that kids loved to laugh. He still did, if truth be told, when he was off duty of course. He smiled at the kids but didn’t press them into conversation. He remembered being very uninterested in the affairs of adults at their age.
Besides, he was very interested in what Wichita and Shahrizai had to say. He appreciated their frank way of speaking and their directness. It appealed to the simplicity in him. He wanted job, if he came to feel at home in the kingdom he served, all the better. It wasn’t strictly necessary, but a man could dream.
His decision in the end was rather arbitrary. He liked the both of them, Wichita and Shahrizai. He didn’t know much of either of their kingdoms, and while he could spend all day grilling them he was eager to set off. He usually went with his gut.
“While I do enjoy sand, and hard work…” The sad thing was he wasn’t kidding. He did enjoy both those things.
“I think I’ll take Wichita up on her invitation, and not just for the clover.” He smiled a little, and that time it was a joke. She had approached him so readily, and he liked a person who spoke their mind plainly.
